


A Rush of Blood to the Head

by echoinautumn (maybetwice)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Genderswap, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Mirror Universe, Rescue Missions, Revenge, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybetwice/pseuds/echoinautumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a shame that they forced his hand like this, took what belonged to him, and brought along their own downfall. Kirk retrieves something taken from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rush of Blood to the Head

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/issenterprise/2144.html?thread=599136#t599136) at the [](http://issenterprise.livejournal.com/profile)[**issenterprise**](http://issenterprise.livejournal.com/) Kink Meme. Meta-discussion of characterization welcome in the comments, as it’s my first time writing them in this context. Thank you so much to [](http://starsandgraces.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://starsandgraces.livejournal.com/)**starsandgraces** for the beta!

_I'm going to buy this place and burn it down._  
 _I'm going to put it six feet underground._  
 _he said, I'm going to buy this place and watch it fall._  
 _stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls._

*

Nothing, Kirk is sure, remains untouched by his wrath; as well it should be, given the circumstances that pushed him to these measures.

“The ship is in position, Captain,” Spock announces firmly from his right, and it’s only then that Kirk rises from his chair after watching the systematic annihilation of the ships that had been summoned upon the arrival of the _Enterprise_.

“Good,” he answers and smirks at Sulu when she turns and stares at him, though it’s in Chekov’s that Kirk sees their planned mutiny; the imperceptible twitch of Sulu’s deceptively delicate hand that prompts Chekov to look away, the message clear. Not now, not yet.

_Good._

It wasn’t meant to be like this. He never actually wanted it to ever come to this, because the system in place wasn’t _so_ bad. Kirk has played by the Empire’s rules all this time, killing where necessary, making strategic assassinations to pave his way to the captaincy of _his_ ship. Following the _Empire’s_ rules wasn’t good enough, and when they took Nora— _his_ Nora—from _his ship_ , Jim Kirk was through with their way of doing things. Spock questioned the order, and Scotty told him it was flat out impossible to do what he wanted, but he proved both of them wrong, not least of all when they obeyed the order anyway. They have a stake in this mission, in its absolute success, because otherwise they’re all going to be executed as traitors to the Empire, Kirk’s orders or not.

Now it’s done, and now they’re here.

Kirk crosses his arms casually over his chest. “Uhura, open a channel to headquarters.”

She stares at him over her shoulder for a few seconds, but she doesn’t hesitate the way Chekov did when he gave the order to chart a course to these coordinates. He’ll be put in the booth for it later, but he needed him up until this moment, and he’ll need him a little bit longer to keep working in tandem with Sulu.

“Connection established,” Uhura answers. “Their visual equipment is damaged, but this transmission is set for full broadcast through the station.” Kirk didn’t ask for that much, but Uhura’s unfailing attention to detail is what landed her the position at the top of Communications, not that she spends her nights in Spock’s bed—despite the rumors otherwise.

Kirk doesn’t meet her eyes or acknowledge her, but he stares at their view screen, at the scattered flotsam of other ships floating impotently around the faltering gravity of the station.

“This is Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the ISS _Enterprise._ Though,” he smirks and hopes it resounds clearly in his voice, “some of you are perfectly aware who I am, and why I’m here. I am coming aboard the station with one directive. Anyone who gets in my way will be eradicated on sight. Anyone I see will be shot without question. If my Chief Medical Officer is in any way harmed, I will give the order for my helmsmen to fire on what’s left of your station the moment I return with her.” Kirk hesitates a few seconds, a hand closing into a fist.

“You better be waiting for me right where you are, Bones. Uhura, terminate the transmission.”

The telltale click that accompanies the closing of the channel is Kirk’s cue to approach the helm and rest his hand on Sulu’s thin shoulder.

“I’m taking one of your security units. The second you get confirmation _from my mouth_ that I’m back on board, I want you and Chekov to level that station to atoms.”

Kirk can feel her whole body stiffen underneath his fingers when he rubs his thumb in small circles against her neck and leans close to her ear, all too aware of the blatant glare Chekov is drilling into him. “If you fire even a second too soon, Sulu, the booth will be the _least_ of your worries. You can tell the same to your dog over there.”

She doesn’t breathe when he releases her shoulder and leaves the bridge without another word. Spock knows that he’s in command, and Kirk trusts him not to abandon him there _or_ let Sulu try anything. Scotty knows protocol, anyway, and Kirk still has the emergency self-destruct sequence set to his voice alone.

By the time he arrives, Sulu’s already sent the order for her best unit to meet him there, and five security officers are already standing at attention on the transport pad, saluting him in fluid unison when he steps on with them, his phaser in his hand when he gives the curt “ _Energize_ ” to Kyle.

The station appears completely deserted, but Kirk knows that most of them are probably just hiding. He orders the security team to fan out and shoot any survivors they find, but steps through the corridors with his phaser lifted, sidestepping a shower of sparks that explodes from a nearby conduit.

He knows precisely where the Admiral’s quarters are, the slick bastard who thought he would get away with taking Nora without any resistance from Kirk. He hasn’t spoken to her since before it happened nearly three weeks before, and he doesn’t actually care if she chose to go willingly with the Admiral.

Two shots is enough to short-circuit the lock on the Admiral’s quarters and Kirk steps through the smoke-filled doorway, but the only sound from the room is a gasp for breath before—

“Jesus Christ, Kirk,” Nora swears between choking coughs, but when the smoke clears into the corridor, hers is the only figure he can see, tied firmly to the bed like an obscene sacrifice. The Admiral’s body is three feet away in a pool of blood. On second look, Kirk spots the bloody foam on his lips and smirks down at Nora, sliding his phaser into his holster and drawing his dagger.

“Good girl,” he whispers into her ear when he cuts her wrists free and lets the blade dig into her wrist until he feels her blood well up and slide over his hand.

“Almost makes up for letting myself get snatched in the first place, I bet,” she snarls at him. “Fuck you.”

If Kirk thinks it’s not an appropriate response, he keeps it to himself for the moment, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, slicking her blood over his skin like an ointment for the ache of missing her. It’s a weakness he can’t even admit to himself; not even with Nora right here in arm’s length, swearing under her breath and touching her bleeding wrists delicately.

“I’m a doctor, not your damsel in distress,” she complains when she staggers to her feet, her legs long and shapely, bare and bruised, and suddenly seeing Admiral Komack dead on the floor isn’t enough for him. She can protest all she wants, but Kirk isn’t a fool. The look in her eyes is relief: freedom from whatever happened over the last three weeks that she will tell him in detail soon enough.

“I came for you because you belong to me,” he explains, roughly pulling her straight, scowling when she bats off his arm. “Was it willing?” he murmurs into her ear, tucking a lock of hair behind the fragile cartilage and pushing her into the wall hard enough to bruise.

“Are you fucking serious?” she demands, fighting him until Kirk grabs her wrists and shoves them into the unyielding metal of the walls.

“Was it willing?” he repeats, touching her cheek with his fingers, brushing them over her lips. “Did you go with him because you wanted to leave me? Because you thought you’d get away from me this way?”

“Don’t insult me,” she hisses, struggling futilely against him until he releases one of her hands in curiosity. She grabs his shirt and twists it around her raw, bloodied fist. “Don’t you ever fucking insult me like that when I spent _three weeks_ here for you, waiting for the chance to see that son-of-a-bitch dead on the floor there.”

Kirk laughs, resting his forehead against hers when she drags him closer. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“If you don’t know by now, then I shouldn’t even bother—” Nora falls silent when Kirk presses his fingers against her lips. He doesn’t need to hear. Nora has been his doctor since he was first stationed on the _Enterprise_ , and he’ll never trust another doctor again in his whole life. Their arrangement is more than that of friends or doctor and captain, or even that she’s his woman. There isn’t anyone she trusts as much as him, no one he could destroy as thoroughly, and no one who knows him enough to do the same to him.

“Tell me it wasn’t what you wanted,” he breathes against her ear and Nora falls silent for a few long seconds before she tears herself from his hands and starts dressing herself as casually as if it’s any other morning with Kirk, in his quarters, without the blaring sirens of the station. He doesn’t mind waiting, but when she’s holding her shirt between her fingers, Nora finally turns and looks him in the eye.

“Of course it wasn’t.”

“Good.” Kirk smirks and grabs her arm before she’s finished straightening her shirt over her breasts. “Kirk to Enterprise, two to beam out.”

*

The silent implosion of the station burns like a star for a few seconds before the cold vacuum of space absorbs it completely. The image plays again and again on the screen across the room and reflects like a hologram on her skin when he pushes into her, whispering his possessive reminders into her ear. She belongs to him, willingly or not, but she’s never left him before the Admiral took her. Though they have no formal agreement, no spoken vows or threats to bind them together, it’s as good as anything; a marriage in all but name. He will never admit, even to himself, that for the briefest of moments on his way to find her, he wondered if this was her way of finally refusing him.

Her fingers find their way into his hair, pulling savagely and leaving bleeding welts on his back when she screams out her orgasm. He pushes deeper into her, reclaiming her with every thrust and every sound he pulls from her like a hard-won battle.

“Say it,” Kirk whispers into her ear, sucking on her earlobe to hide how desperately he needs her to respond. “Say you’re mine, you missed me, you’ll never belong to anyone else.”

She meets his eyes and swears at him, but it’s there in her eyes; something neither of them have acknowledged waiting to be pushed out by the next thrust, the next fistful of her hair that he takes when he jerks her up into his lap.

_“Say it,”_ he orders one last time as he can feel her spine melting beneath his touch when she comes apart around him again, the unraveling of her self-control perfectly contained within him, mouthing the words against his lips. It’s somehow all the better when she surrenders, limp against him when he comes inside of her, and whispers her devotion to him in defiant tones. Kirk isn’t enough of a fool to suppose that he’s finally broken her, but for a few, isolated seconds, he ponders whether his fears mean that she, or whatever it is swelling in his chest with their afterglow, has broken him.


End file.
